


peter: *does a kickflip* I'm Gay

by Ididntsignupforthisshit (myhamartia)



Series: *stay with me by sam smith plays while peter looks out the car window, makeup smeared to hell* [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Bisexual Peter Parker, Coming Out, F/M, Father figure Tony Stark, Feminine Pronouns for Peter Parker, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Peter Parker, Genderfluid Peter Parker, Harley calls Tony Dad sometimes bc. yes., I wrote this in a day imma scream, M/M, Masculine Pronouns for Peter Parker, Mentions of the sex talk given by tony stark, Multi, Oh My God, Steve Speaks Of Being Gay In The Forties, Trans Bruce Banner, Trans Character, Trans Clint Barton, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, Trans Wanda Maximoff, everyone is fucking queer bc avengers, he doesnt come out as bi he comes out as gf im Just Sayin, he's already out as bi don worry, ho boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14798288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhamartia/pseuds/Ididntsignupforthisshit
Summary: Sometime during that month, Peter decided that it was time; he was going to do it.He was going to come out to the Avengers.| Or: the one where Peter and Harley are best friends, Tony is trying his best, the Transvengers are a#Thingand Clint forgets to turn up his hearing aids |





	peter: *does a kickflip* I'm Gay

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i wrote this whole thing in less than twenty four hours and im honestly real proud of it and i hope you like it???
> 
> keep in mind that peter's pronouns  _do_ switch. bc. my babe is genderfluid and we genderfluid bitches switch pronouns sometimes. It's gonna be obvious, don't worry.
> 
> oh and like. just bc i use the name  _peter_ doesnt mean that his pronouns cant be feminine. they arent typos, it's just a "she" day
> 
> ok ok ok
> 
> have fun yo i rlly love this

Sometime during that month, Peter decided that it was time; he was going to do it.

He didn’t feel as bad about it as he figured he would. Don’t get him wrong thought, he was still fucking _terrified._ He was, after all, basically coming out to his family. But, then again, it felt somewhat bigger than when he came out as bisexual. That didn’t really effect his image, after all. He was just more open about his love life, and his crushes, and was finally comfortable enough to reintroduce both Michelle and Ned as his partners.

But this, here? This just felt… different. He knew it was a different sort of issue altogether. Sexuality and gender were similar, but really, _really_ different.

And Just like Peter couldn’t help who he loved, he knew that he couldn’t help who he was – who he _really_ wanted to be. Sometimes it felt suffocating, being on the compound when people would strictly refer to him as Peter, and use he/him pronouns, simply because he didn’t know any better. There were countless times where he wanted to gently correct the name to Penny, or use his she/her or they/them pronoun pins.

But no more, he guessed, because _it was time_.

Eventually.

As soon as he found a damn minute to sit people down.

* * *

It was a Penny day. They liked the name. To them, Penny represented good things. Yellow things. Penny was feminine to him, but it wasn’t pink, and they had accepted that. They weren’t a pink person, and they were good with that.

Sometimes they loved the femininity. They would spend the day in one of those Pintrest-looking high-waisted shorts that made their legs look like a snack, and cute tops. Ned would do their nails because, unlike Michelle, he had steady hands that came from years and years of precision model building. Ned was actually _really_ good at nail art.

Other Penny days turned out a bit differently; the pastel yellows that represented the name would be something more akin to a smooth honey color, and their femininity would be more muted, limited to their home-painted nails and maybe a flower in their fluffed hair.

Today wasn’t a muted Penny day. Today was bright as the sun, and they woke up feeling _good._ Sure, it might have had something to do with how they had a sleepover with Ned the night before, and the fact that Ned’s arms were curled around their waist and he was breathing soft into the crook of Penny’s neck.

When Ned woke up, he pulled his arms back to himself so he could rub at his sleepy eyes, giving Penny the perfect opportunity to stretch out their body, sighing out “Penny day,” to Ned, who simply nodded his affirmation and rolled back into Penny so he could press a kiss to their collarbone.

The morning was good. Penny made them breakfast, and May actually got to eat with them since her shift wasn’t until a couple of hours later. After breakfast was cleaned up, Ned and Penny traded soft kisses as they worked on homework that wasn’t necessarily due for another week and a half.

Eventually, Penny had to get up and haul themselves into the shower. It was a field trip day for the Avengers, and they had to get ready eventually, because they knew that Happy was going make the trip to get them around one o’clock.

They poked their head out of the bathroom door to see Ned scrolling through Tumblr, looking at fanart for Solo. “Hey Ned,” they called out, teething at their lip. Ned looked up at them instantly, wide eyes curious.

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind doing my make-up today?”

Ned didn’t hesitate to nod his head, but he didn’t stop looking Penny over. “Neutral day?” he asked, just to make sure. On Avengers days, any makeup Penny wore was usually natural, usually a light concealer with minimal coverage to cover up their dark circles. Since the spider bite, Penny didn’t even really have acne they needed to conceal. There were just a few residual scars on their shoulders, but their face had completely cleared up.

Penny hummed and thought for a second. “Nah,” they finally decided, “Can you gimme a glam look?”

Ned’s eyes lit up and he nodded.

After they discovered Ned’s hidden talents in nail art, they also took it a little farther. Penny was _not the best_ with makeup, never knew how to apply it properly. It always ended up streaky and cakey and… gross. But Ned was really good at doing Penny’s makeup. It was trial and error at first (Penny couldn’t quite remember how many times Ned had accidentally stabbed them in the eye), but practice yielded good results, and eventually Ned’s glam looks he created on Penny turned out to be fucking _bomb_.

Ned’s hands were gentle as always, but he worked quickly today, since it was a little after noon, and Ned needed to be going soon.

May came in while Ned was digging through Penny’s drawer for the new cake of highlighter Penny had bought recently.

“Well kiddos, I’ve got to head out,” she announced easily. She spotted Penny and made a face somewhere between impressed and awed. “You’re a genius, Ned,” she commended him. Ned didn’t try to stamp down the proud smile as he thanked her. She came forward and leaned a knee on the mattress. “Look at my pretty Penny,” she cooed, ruffling Penny’s hair gently.

“Oh, come on,” they groaned, leaning back with a little laugh. “Have a safe trip, Aunt May.”

She hummed and leaned forward to press a kiss into Penny’s hair. “You too, alright? Call me when Happy gets here, and then when you get there.”

“Yes ma’am.” They gave her a sure nod and she smiled at them.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Ned, you too?”

“Sure thing, Aunt May. And I’m bringing Michelle since she should be done with her project tonight.”

“Good, it’s been a while since she’s been over.” She stood straight and nodded to herself before looking to Penny. “Make sure you get plenty of rest, and don’t forget your toothbrush.”

Penny did roll their eyes this time. “Yeah, okay.” May gave them another kiss on the crown of their head, and did the same to Ned.

“Love you both,” she called out as she left the apartment. They called out their goodbyes after her until they heard the solid shut of the door. Ned dove back in the drawer until he whooped victoriously, holding the highlighter in the air.

Penny grinned. “Highlight me to the gods!” they commanded gleefully.

     Ned left the apartment a half an hour later, with his backpack slung over his shoulders, smelling like Penny’s shampoo and shaving cream. Penny walked him to the door and opened it dutifully for him. They gave Ned a gentle, careful kiss, careful not to smear Penny’s bright lipstick. Ned quietly hummed against their mouth.

“Thanks for making me look pretty,” Penny grinned once they pulled back.

Ned made a show of rolling his eyes. “You’re always pretty,” he admonished before dipping in for one more kiss. He jogged down the hallway towards the elevator, leaving Penny with a pleasant little feeling bubbling in their chest.

They had to hurry and finish getting ready, as Happy texted them that he was twenty minutes out.

Penny looked in their closet with a tiny frown, feeling drawn to a pair of cute overalls that they had recently found at a thrift store. Figuring that they should probably take this one step at a time, Penny eventually sighed and reached for a pair of jeans and a button down shirt. They cuffed the jeans over a pair of colorful mismatched socks. They left their shirt untucked and gathered all of their things and loaded them in their backpack before going to find their shoes. Sneakers would do, they decided, and slipped their feet into the gray Chuck Taylors.

Happy texted that he was at the curb, and Penny slung their backpack over their shoulders and made sure the apartment was locked up tight before heading out to meet Happy.

* * *

 

     If Happy noticed their makeup, he hadn’t said anything. It was just the usual faux-gruff greeting before they were on their way. Penny scrolled through their Instagram feed and settled in for the long drive.

They watched Kid Gorgeous, a comedy special they had downloaded on their Netflix app while they drove, and before they knew it, they were pulling up to the compound.

Happy dropped them off at the front door before going to park the car. They called Aunt May and left a voicemail, saying how they got there okay, and she didn’t have to worry about them. Penny slid their phone in their back pocket and shouldered their backpack again, taking a tiny breath before heading through the big glass doors of the Avengers’ Headquarters.

“Good afternoon, Peter,” Friday greeted them through their earpiece as soon as they walked in, bringing up a holoscreen that moved with them. “Here are any updates that you missed over the week.”

“Thanks, Friday,” they said, already scrolling through. It was mostly mundane ‘ _this guy came into the lab to do maintenance, no big,’_ or stuff like ‘ _Tony looked at your stuff and has made four suggestions.’_ Little things, you know? When they went through nine of the fourteen notifications, they just swiped the holoscreen away from them and continued on to the elevator.

“Did Tony want me as soon as I got in, or?” they let the sentence trail off. The lady at the front desk didn’t do much but glance at them and smile a greeting, which they returned.

“Boss said to make sure you have lunch before you even think about stepping foot in the lab,” Friday answered.

“Cool, third floor then, please,” they said as they got on the elevator.

Most of the third floor was pretty much a free space for the residents living on the compound. That’s when Penny’s first bedroom was, after Tony moved them to the fifth floor (which was essentially _Tony’s floor_ ) when he learned about Penny’s occasional nightmares (they once almost put Clint through a wall on accident when he tried to wake Penny up from one of the aforementioned nightmares. That was a _long-ass_ night.), but even though they lived on the upper floor, they still ate on the third floor and spent a lot of their time outside of the lab, there with the other Avengers.

It was like bonding time, Steve said, in his silly ‘Upper Moral’ way.

Penny hadn’t exactly _bonded_ with Captain America very much recently. They were kind of over how he almost dropped a set of stairs on them, sure, but he did break Penny’s nose when he slammed his shield into their face, and that was still kind of shitty. Penny gets why Cap did what he did, standing by his best friend, but still… they’re just… _not there yet_.

Besides, Cap hadn’t exactly given Penny very many reasons buy a ticket to the Steve Rogers Hype Train.

The elevator doors opened and Penny stepped out easily, drinking in the pleasant smell of what they figured was lunch.

“Peter!”

Penny looked over to who was calling their name, and saw Wanda’s head stuck out of her room. She smiled at them, but paused when they turned their face to her. She stepped out and grinned at them. “Did you do that?” she asked, gesturing quickly to her own face.

Penny flushed and shook their head, smiling sweetly. “My boyfriend did, actually!”

“I’ll say.” She came closer and took their chin in her fingers. “You look beautiful, Peter,” she told them reverently, “He did very well.”

“I’ll tell him you said so!” they promised.

“Do you wear this kind of thing often?” she asked curiously.

They tensed just a little bit and prayed that she hadn’t read their mind any time recently. They shook their head and shrugged. “Just a thing Ned wanted to try out,” they lied.

Wanda hummed. “You look very comfortable. I did not expect a teenage boy to look so comfortable in his skin when wearing makeup.”

Penny just shrugged again. “Just am, I guess.” They paused and smelled the air again. “Lunch smells good,” they said, an effort to switch subjects.

Wanda’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Harley is making lasagna,” she told them excitedly.

Penny’s whole air perked up impossibly. “Harley’s in!?”

Harley Keener wasn’t in the compound often. He lived in Tennessee with his mom, but Tony would fly him out for a few weeks during the school year and most of the summers. Stark Internship, it said on paper, just like Penny’s – even though everyone knew that Tony was very attached to the young man. Harley even called Tony ‘Dad’ sometimes, it was fucking wild.

Penny had met him on a Peter day, early in the morning on a visit to the compound. He was badly injured during patrol, with a gunshot to his side. He had to publically commute upstate with a dinner towel pressed firmly against his side while trying to get back to the facility to _hopefully_ get a little medical attention. Peter and May didn’t exactly have the best medical insurance and this was, honestly? A lot cheaper.

After getting checked into the compound, he made his way quietly up the elevator, demanding that Friday keep everything quiet. Peter was in the middle of trying to get his blood sugar back up when Harley popped up. Peter was lying on the kitchen counter, shoving Little Debby snacks into his mouth when the lights clicked on and Harley asked _“What the fuuckk,”_ quietly, full of awe.

Harley argued with Peter for fifteen minutes, trying to let him stitch up his bullet wound. Peter held firm, saying that it was already beginning to heal. Harley relented with a huff and pulled up a barstool to the counter Peter was still occupying. Harley asked him what happened and Peter told him. Peter asked who he was, and got the full story.

They’ve been practically besties ever since.

“Yes,” Wanda nodded, “I would join you in, but I’m working on something for Steve, so I have to get back to my room.”

“That’s cool,” Penny assured her. They said their farewells and Penny made their way quickly to the kitchen. Sure enough, Harley was there in the kitchen, standing next to the double oven. “Harley.” They laughed as Harley jumped and looked over his shoulder.

“Petey!” he exclaimed. “They told me you were coming in today!” He dropped his spatula and wiped his hands off before coming to give Penny a hug. He drew back and took Penny’s face in, not registering it for a brief second. Penny tried to hold back a wince when Harley didn’t say anything right away. But then Harley snorted, demanding, “Damn Parker, who beat your face!?” There was no malice in his tone, and Penny laughed at the expression on his face. But before they could answer, there was another voice that popped up.

“Someone beat on Peter’s face?” There was an obvious parental-like accusation that had Penny twisting around on their heel, putting their hands up as if to calm down Bucky before they even saw him.

“Nope! I’m all good, swear!” Penny chirped defensively.

Bucky frowned. “How can we tell, since you’ve painted your face on?” he accused, his eyes narrowing. Peter winced. Maybe they hadn’t thought this whole _show up to work in makeup for the first time_ thing through. After all, there was a bigger community in the compound lately, ever since the Rogue Avengers joined back up with them. He hadn’t really gotten to know any of them very well outside of the battle field except Wanda. He had a generally close relationship with the first set of Avengers, and sometimes the addition of the others felt smothering.

That, and he knew that Cap and Bucky were coming out of the forties. Their ideals may not exactly align with Penny’s.

Peter’s.

His anxiety started to pool in his gut and the bright yellow that he associated with Penny began to muddle and turn into a rounded blue color. Peter.

His identity as Peter had nothing to do with his anxiety, but it was more of a defense mechanism. He tried to exude confidence and puff out his chest more. _Masculine_ , his mind supplied. Blend in and pretend that nothing’s wrong, that you aren’t hiding anything.

“No, Bucky,” Harley interjected, explaining, “Beating face is, like, slang for putting makeup on.”

Peter shifted uncomfortably until he smelled the lasagna in the oven. Concerned that it might have been burning, he crossed the kitchen peek into the oven door at the pan. Nope. Still good. The cheese hadn’t yet begun to bubble, so he simply shut the oven.

He glanced over his shoulder to find Bucky frowning in confusion. He looked at Peter, hesitance dotting his features. “So no one’s hurt you?” he asked.

Peter shook his head quickly. “I’m fine,” he promised.

“Okay, good. I…” He looked around the kitchen. “I came to check on lunch.”

Harley gave him a half-smile. “It’s done in fifteen,” he said surely, without even having to glance at the dish.

Bucky nodded. He looked back at Peter and he realized that his concern hadn’t quite abated. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked. Harley snapped to look at Peter, too, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort from the boy who, in this moment, had it in _spades_.

Peter frowned, not knowing what to say for a second. “No, of course not. Did… Did I make you…?”

He raised his eyebrow at Peter. “How could you have made me uncomfortable?”

Peter rolled his shoulder in a careful little shrug. “It wouldn’t be the first time I made someone uncomfortable or mad because I have my makeup done,” he admitted.

“Kid,” he said sternly, making Peter look back up to him from where he was _really_ admiring how the light bounced around the hardwood floor beyond the kitchen. Bucky leveled Peter with a little look. “You’re not offending me with this.” He was blunt, but voice was tight, like he didn’t know how to phrase what he was trying to say. “It…” He frowned. “If you feel good, then that’s no one’s business but yours. If they try to make it their business, then that’s the time you acquaint them with the ground and the bottom of your shoe.”

Peter’s grin was bright and it stretched across his face until his mouth hurt. “Dude,” he breathed, “can I, like, hug you?”

Bucky glanced at Harley, who just grinned at him. Bucky shrugged a little and lifted his arm for Peter, who zipped across the kitchen to wrap his arms around Bucky’s middle. He pulled back because _hah maybe his eyes were misty because he wasn’t exactly expecting such acceptance from Bucky._

He looked to the ceiling and tried to blot his eyes carefully with the tops of his knuckles.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Hey Peter.”

“What?”

“I wanna cry, but my foundation is forty-eight dollars!” Harley quoted at him, making Peter break out into a loud laugh. Bucky didn’t look like he understood the reference, but didn’t really comment on it, either. He watched as Harley peeped in the oven and nodded to himself, pleased. “She’s finished,” he announced.

“I’ll go tell Steve and Sam about lunch,” Bucky offered, already turning on his heel to leave the kitchen.

Peter leaned against the counter and watched as Harley got the lasagnas (Peter hadn’t seen the second one at first, but he figured it was tucked further back on the second rack, closer to the fan) out of the oven and let them cool before cutting them.

“You do look pretty,” Harley commented, a teasing smile on his face. Peter reached out to kick at his ankle. “Hey.” He kicked back. “And that-,” he pointed in the direction Bucky went off to, “was pretty dope.”

Peter nodded, letting himself smile. He side-eyed Harley as the older boy reached into a cabinet to retrieve a large stack of plates to set on the counter. He took a deep breath. “I just hope, you know, that he, uh…” He cut himself off and tried to steady his quickly-beating heart. He forced out a sharp breath and shook his head once. Harley looked at him curiously, eyes boring right into Peter’s soul. “I hope he takes the genderfluid, uh, _thing_ , just as well.”

He felt himself flush from embarrassment, or maybe shame, as Harley looked at him, processed his words and turned them over in his mind. He smiled at Peter and reached out to tug at a strand of his hair near his temple. “Me too. Hand me the knife in the block over there, please.”

_Huh_. Peter expected something else. More… _questions_. He was pleasantly surprised when Harley just looked at him expectantly until he jumped and grabbed the knife Harley asked for.

Harley cut into the first lasagna and began to plate the food, his hips swaying slightly set to imaginary music. He looked at Peter and cocked his head. “So, what are your pronouns?” he asked lightly, not overly loud just in case someone might hear them.

“Uh…” He hesitated for a second. “It varies from day to day,” he admitted. “It was a ‘they’ day, but I’m in ‘he’ right now. If that makes sense…?”

Harley nodded thoughtfully. “Cool.” His eyes lit up. “You know what? It’d be cool if we could whip up something like a pronoun pin, but you can set it from day to day.”

“Like a sticky nametag,” Peter laughed. “ _Hello, my name is Peter today. My pronouns are he/him_.”

Harley grinned. “Yeah, that’s it.” He paused before realization hit him. “Today?” he questioned, “like, do you have a different name you go by?”

Peter chuckled nervously. “Uh, yeah, actually? On more fem days, I go by Penny.”

Harley nodded thoughtfully. “I like it,” he said, “suits you.”

Peter smiled brightly, feeling elated on so many different levels. “Thank you,” he said, every inch sincere.

“So is it a Penny day?” Harley asked.

“Uh…” Peter thought for a second before deciding. “Yeah, it is. But I’m not actually, like, _out_ to anyone else here.”

Harley nodded understandingly. “Our secret for now. I get it.” He shucked his knife in the sink to be washed later. He twisted one plate absently on the counter. “Thanks for telling me this, Penny.”

Penny couldn’t help squeezing Harley in a hug.

Lunch went off without a hitch. They never really used the big table except for the occasional dinner. Mostly, everyone gets pinged via Friday, or the grapevine, or both, and they venture in to get their plates before dissipating. Sam and Bucky came in and got plates for themselves and Steve, loaded up a tray with silverware and bottled drinks before carting them off to wherever they go. Wanda retreated back to her room after talking for a few minutes with Penny and Harley.

Others came and went for their food until there were only a few plates left. Penny loaded them up on a tray and started looking around the fridge for those drinks that Dr. Banner liked.

It was almost impossible to get Dr. Banner or Tony out of the lab when they got onto something. Friday said that they would “be down in a minute” but that was code for “Yeah, we aren’t coming down, but we’ll come down later, griping about how hungry we are. Semicolon, end parenthesis.”

So it usually fell to Penny to make sure they both got fed. Sometimes Harley did it, though he was more a fan of the ‘“ _It’s an emergency YOU BETTER GET UP HERE”_ and then have Friday lock the lab until they’ve cleaned a plate’ technique.

What an icon, honestly.

However, Penny kind of felt like they’d absolutely explode if they even considered doing that, so they settled on just bringing them their lunches.

They got on the elevator and asked Friday to take them up a floor. They carried the tray precariously through the hallways, past the hall to the apartments, and the one to the living room to the door to the lab.

“Fri,” they said.

Friday scanned them up and down carefully and they barely suppressed a roll of their eyes.

“For security measures,” Friday reminded them before sliding the doors open. They were hit with quiet rock music playing in the background while Tony tinkered on something on the table. Bruce was asleep, with his feet kicked up on a messy spot on table, resting on project notes with little care.

Tony called Penny over without even looking over his shoulder. “How goes it, kid?” he asked.

Penny snorted and brought the tray over, setting it on the table next to Tony. “Brought you lunch.”

Tony’s head snapped up, eyes bright. “ _Ooh_ ,” he cooed, like he wasn’t even aware food was an option yet. Penny snorted to themselves and gave Tony his plate and fork. “Thanks for keeping me alive.” Tony’s mouth was already full of pasta and Penny laughed.

They looked at Bruce and frowned. “Should we wake him up?”

Tony glance over his shoulder to his friend and scoffed. “No, lil’ Brucie doesn’t like being woke up from his naps.”

Penny hummed, twisting so they could hop up on the desk. They kicked their feet in the free air and looked around at the cluttered space. Their projects are on a table a couple of feet away. They were working on a patch of coding for their suit today, and _fuck_ that was slow, grating work. They sighed, thinning their lips.

“Who did lunch?” Tony asked, looking up to them.

“Uh, Harley did,” they answered. Tony nodded knowingly, like he _knew_ just by the way the noodles were layered that it was Harley’s handiwork, or something. “How long is he here, by the way?”

Tony hummed a small sound and stuffed all of his pre-chewed food into the hollow of his cheek before speaking. “Two weeks here, two weeks home, and then he spends the rest of the summer here,” he said. “His school year just ended, so we’ve got him for some of the summer.”

Penny’s eyes lit up. “Awesome!” they enthused. Especially since Penny’s school year was winding to an end, too. They’d be able to hang out a lot more. Oh! Maybe they could hang out with Michelle and Ned, too! It’d be even better, because now Harley knows about them, and can use their names and pronouns while they’re out.

_Speaking of, they’ve got big news for their partners!_

“So kid, what’s this look you’re sporting? You got a date or something? Maybe just came from one?” Penny watched as Tony’s eyebrows wagged up and down and they flushed.

“No, you’re ridiculous,” they admonished, face feeling hot. They blinked and felt the fake lashes glued on. They felt kind of heavy, then, and they paused. “Is it too much?” they asked, their face screwing up in worry.

Tony snorted. “No, I’m just admiring your bravery, working in a lab where it generally gets pretty hot, and there’s open flames or soldering irons at times, and then coming in with full face.” He gave a little salute.

“I’m coding today,” they said matter-of-factly. “No open flame for me, this took _way_ too long for it to start melting off my face.”

Tony raised his hands. “Anything could happen,” he shrugged. He leaned back in his chair and took his plate with him, working his work into cutting the noodles. “Is this a new look you’ve got going on, or is it one of those challenges everyone your age does nowadays? ‘ _Boyfriend does my makeup,’_ or _‘Mirror-less makeup_ ’ or _‘I let my robots do my makeup for me.’_ ” He quoted, an exasperated look on his face. Penny couldn’t help their laughter.

“Oh my god,” they wheezed. “We should film that. You and Dum-E.”

Tony shook his head firmly. “No chance in hell,” he said instantly, pointing his fork threateningly at Penny.

Penny’s giggles died down and they sighed, still kicking their feet in the air. “Uh, it’s not a challenge, but it’s not a new look, either? Like I wear this kinda stuff a lot.” Tony lifted an eyebrow and they amended the statement, “Like, at home, and on dates, and just every day sometimes, when I’m not being Spiderman, you know? Just not… here. At work.”

Tony hummed. “Is that a sense of professionalism and not wanting people to get distracted by your shining face, or something more akin to not wanting people here to _know_?”

Penny scratched at the underside of their chin and thought for a second. “The latter,” they said eventually. “I mean, it’s kind of scary.”

Tony nodded. “Maybe,” he said, “but we’ve all seen Clint’s wide collection of wrap dresses, and no one blinks an eye anymore. It’s not the same, but.”

Penny’s eyes widened. “What the hell, that sounds amazing.”

Tony nodded seriously. “Oh yeah,” he agreed, “It’s a _sight to behold_.” Penny laughed at him, and Tony smiled in amusement. He forked more lasagna into his mouth. “But yeah, if anyone _does_ give you shit, tell them to come to me.” He jammed a thumb into his chest and gave Penny a significant look. “This is nothing if not a safe space for everyone involved.”

Penny smiled at him. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Any time, kiddo.”

There was a loud snort, and a jostling of papers as Bruce jolted awake in a fit. He looked around the lab with wide eyes, as if trying to determine exactly where he ended up after abandoning the ship to Dreamland.

“Hi there,” Tony said brightly. “The kid brought up lunch.” Bruce blinked owlishly at them before slowly registering what he said. The corners of his mouth lifted up into a sleepy little smile.

“Really? Thanks, Pete.” He slowly let his legs down from the desk, and took the plate Tony offered to him.

“No problem,” Penny told him before looking at Tony. “So, I’ll be at my desk?”

“Sure thing,” he said, waving his hand in the general direction of Penny’s desk. “Be good.”

Penny laughed and scooted off to their work.

* * *

 

     The rest of the day went pretty normally. There were lab antics, but thankfully no open flames to speak of.

Later that night, after dinner, Penny took a shower and washed their face. Feeling clean and airy, they videocalled Michelle and Ned over Skype and updated them over everything with Harley and everything else that happened throughout the day. They were overjoyed and happy for them, and Penny never stopped happily grinning at them.

Harley knocked on his doorframe and poked his head in the room just as Penny was about to say goodnight to their partners. He flopped on Penny’s bed and Penny put him in frame. They talked for a few minutes more before Harley declared that he had come to steal Penny so they could watch a movie. They all said their goodnights before ending the call.

That’s how Penny ended up tucked into the corner of the couch, wrapped in a burrito blanket while they both watched a queer French movie.

Granted, it was a lot more of making exasperated comments towards the main characters, and exasperation because _what is a healthy relationship? Not this one, that’s for sure._

Even though they were in the middle of the third floor living room, no one really passed through much. For the most part, it was just Harley and Penny and their slightly-hard-to-follow movie.

But, as it goes with the laws of the universe, of course someone had to walk in at the worst time. Penny had just come back from a bathroom break and had resettled with a bowl of popcorn in their lap when _it_ happened.

It was, apparently, a dream sequence. A steamy one, with bare ass, and sex noises like the proverbial cherry on top – but what made it weird, was it wasn’t even about the main boys, but one of the boy’s mother? It… God, what the hell.

Penny was a little too focused on the ridiculousness of the scene to hear footsteps against the hardwood flooring behind them. “Is this really age appropriate?”

They jerked in surprise, spilling popcorn all over themselves and the couch in what was sure to look like a guilty string of movements.

Steve Rogers stood behind the couch, a crease between his brows and a downturn to his lips.

Harley hummed questioningly and looked up from his phone to the screen. He jumped, exclaiming. “Oh, God!” He made a little hand motion, and Friday paused the movie, overlaying it with a screen of black for now. “I wasn’t even paying attention,” he muttered, looking to Penny with heat rising in his cheeks.

Penny cleared their throat after swallowing thickly. “Uh… H-How’s it going, Cap?” they asked, trying to move past the moment, resolutely _not_ looking at the screen where there was still a very much naked butt on display.

“Are you two allowed to be watching this type of content?” he asked instead, bewildered.

“I’m eighteen, so yes,” Harley piped up, raising his hand.

“My birthday is in, like, two months, but this movie is rated TV-MA, which is available for 17 year olds and up, so it was really a tossup about content in the first place.” Penny didn’t know why they were trying to justify themselves so much. “Anyway, yeah, we didn’t know this was in here.”

“Foreign queer movies usually have nudity,” Harley noted absently. “It’s like a running theme.” Penny snorted, but looked over at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction.

He didn’t do a lot, just glanced at the screen once more before looking down at Penny and Harley again. “Just…” Steve trailed off, his mouth screwing over to the side. “Be careful. Don’t watch things you aren’t supposed to. I don’t want to have to tell Tony.”

Harley reached over and patted Steve’s arm, nodding knowingly. “I guarantee you that the old man wouldn’t give a _solitary_ fuck.”

“Language, please.”

Penny made a little sound. “You know, I dunno, Harley. MJ sent me this really cool conceptual art once, and it, like, featured nudity, and Tony saw it over my shoulder and then tried to give me the talk. I had to plug my ears and yell that Aunt May had it covered.”

Harley’s eyes lit up with mirth. “Holy shit, he did the same shit with me,” he said excitedly, a laugh bubbling up his throat. “I mentioned my first girlfriend on a phone call with him and then he literally flew out to give me the sex talk. I wanted to jump in a lake. I was, like, fourteen.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Penny moaned sympathetically.

“And _then!_ ” he went on, raising a pointer finger high in the air. “Same thing happened with Carter, my first boyfriend.”

Penny winced, “ _Oh no_.”

“Yes.” Harley’s eyes were wide, as if trying to accurately convey his horror at the time. “He didn’t fly out that time, but he sent this, like, _gift basket_. There was this book in it, and then uhm, lube and condoms and stuff. And he went through things that should not have gone through. And then he’s like _have any questions?_ And I’m like _Yeah Dad, can you stop, now?_ ”

Penny was in stitches, falling back into the couch with their arms curled around their middle. Steve looked like he wanted to say something, but bit at the inside of his cheek. “ _Embarrassing_ ,” Penny bemoaned.

Steve made a little face. “It might be embarrassing, but I’d be thankful for it,” he said lightly. “Back when I was your age, there wasn’t really a lot of talk about it – especially to young men. And that goes _triple_ for having sex with another man. You were lucky if you got someone more experienced than you, who actually _knew_ how to do anything… _involved…_ without major pain. If you didn’t, it was a lot of trial and error.”

Penny’s jaw dropped and Harley regarded him closely. “Cap you sly dog,” Harley breathed. “And _did you_ find an older, more experienced man?”

Penny watched in wonder as Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, blushed, filling his cheeks out, and painting them red. “He wasn’t older by much,” he said carefully, “and we weren’t experienced, just careful.  We went slow, and made sure that both of us were comfortable through everything we did, talked through everything and made sure we were on the same page.” He didn’t say it like he was dishing juicy details on his sex life, but rather like it was his own brand of an impromptu sex talk. It was a lesson, woven with significant looks, emphasis on consent and comfort.

“Wow,” Penny breathed. “This is not a conversation I was expecting today.”

Steve smiled, clearly amused. “Neither was I.” He shrugged. He reached out and clapped a hand on Penny’s shoulder, and then on Harley’s. “But that doesn’t negate that this is an important topic to remember.” He took back his hands and nodded surely. “Well, I think I’m going to bed. Goodnight boys.”

Penny sat up straighter, looking back at Steve. “Do you want to watch the movie with us?” they offered.

Steve tossed them a smile, but ultimately shook his head. “Not tonight, but thank you. Bucky’s waiting up for me.”

Penny’s eyes widened a bit and they traded a look with Harley. “Do you mind me asking,” they said slowly, trailing off, “was Bucky your partner? You know – back when?”

Steve’s smile widened and he winked before turning and heading down the hallway.

Penny looked at Harley, eyes wide with surprise. _“Holy fuck,”_ he whispered.

“Fuckin’ I’ll say,” Harley agreed. He shook his head and settled back into the couch, phone on the arm of the couch. “Now, what did I miss?”

* * *

 

     Later that night, Peter lied on top of his covers staring at the ceiling.

He was contemplating just how exactly he was going to announce it. He wondered if there was some kind of memo he could send out to the building. That thought brought him to the idea of some kind of, like, fake baby announcement. Send out the “It’s a… _baby human who don’t need no gender,”_ greeting cards with all the info in its folds.

That’d be pretty funny, but he didn’t know how that would go over – or if some people would even _get it_ , you know?

And then he turned the notion of just telling everyone one-by-one, but that would take a long time, and by the time he was, like, halfway done, the grapevine would have taken care of the rest. That might not be the best thing.

_Ugh_.

Sighing, he lifted his hand and made a special movement so the lights were brought up just a bit and Friday’s voice came into the room.

“Hi Peter.”

“Hi, Friday,” he replied. “Can you pull up my personal profile in the database, please?”

Wordlessly, she pulled up the screen and put it in front of him. He sat up, and it reappeared in his lap. He brought it up to an angle in front of him and began to scroll through it.

_Peter Benjamin Parker, blah blah, 17 years old, blah blah, birthday, blah blah, uh…_

Whoop, there it is.

_Sex: male. Gender: cisgender._

“Hey, Friday,” he said, frowning, “can I edit this page?”

“Not everything,” she told him. “Here is a list of things you can change.” He was presented with a bulleted list of things like height and weight and a personalized trigger list. Peter nodded as he looked through it.

He teethed at his lip and took a breath before asking, “Can I edit my gender though?”

“That isn’t on the pre-approved list, but I can send your request to Boss.”

Peter sighed, nodding. “Uh, okay, let’s do that. Is there, like, uh, a form? Or something?”

Friday pulled one up. It was simple, asking for his name and his ID number first off. He jotted those down and then looked further down the form.

_Suggestion:_

Peter’s fingers shook a little as he filled the box out.

_Suggestion: let me change my gender, you cowards._

He thought Tony would appreciate the humor, and Peter felt like if he was going to put in a polite request, he was going to go overboard and obsess over the way he worded things, and then he was going to end up apologizing and begging that Tony just forget about him ever asking in the first place, and _okay, FUCK, PETER, CHILL._

He concentrated on breathing for a few minutes and tried to loosen the tension in his shoulders before going on.

_Suggestion: let me change my gender, you cowards, im a beautiful nb child who don’t need no gender_

Now, was that too much? It seemed like too much. Maybe.

He sighed tightly and asked Friday to send it before he did something stupid, like chicken out.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to see it?” he asked Friday quietly after a second.

She hummed, the gentle noise putting him at ease. “He’s already opened it,” she told him.

“I thought he was asleep?” Peter burst incredulously.

“Oh, no, Boss is awake and currently in the lab.”

“Oh, God,” Peter held his breath until his lungs ached, and then let it out slowly. “Holy shit.”

Less than a minute later, Friday pulled up a notification for him. Peter made a distressed groaning noise as he prodded the notification, prompting it to open.

It pulled up his profile, displaying Peter’s profile again.

“You’ve been given full access to edit,” Friday told him.

“Did he say anything else?” Peter asked, feeling small. He felt as if he was waiting for approval, for Tony send him a video message, or come right through his door, and give him his Honest Opinion on the matter, whatever it may be.

Logically, Peter knew he didn’t have anything to worry about, but that _didn’t matter, because anxiety was a Thang and Peter was on edge, okay?_

“Yes. He says you should be in bed and to not stay up too much longer.”

Peter huffed a sigh. “Of course,” he muttered, eyes not leaving his profile. With something akin to elation, he tapped on the ‘edit’ bubble and pulled up the ‘Gender’ field.

_Sex: male. Gender: genderfluid._

There wasn’t a box for pronouns, and maybe he should have asked for a pronoun box while he was at it.

Oh well. Maybe he would bring it up tomorrow. He saved the profile and closed it out before tucking himself under his quilt and snuggling into his pillow.

“This was good,” he breathed, smiling happily. “Friday, can you turn out the lights?”

“Of course, Peter.”

* * *

 

     When he woke up the next morning, Peter thought he was beginning to realize what he _just did_.

His eyes widened and he looked to the ceiling lifelessly before rubbing his hands down his face with a loud groan.

“What the fuck have I _done?_ ” he asked, sitting up.

“Good morning,” Friday greeted him and began listing off weather conditions before cropping up his updates for the day. A test he had left running in the lab last night finished up while he was sleeping, Clint was going to be out on a mission for the day, and Bucky made pancakes for everyone.

_Half an hour ago, meaning they’re probably all gone by now._

He stamped down a disappointed groan and swung his legs out of bed. He stood and stretched, wondering if Friday had made everyone aware of the profile edits he had made last night.

“No one but Boss was alerted,” Friday told him helpfully when he finally voiced his question.

“Alright. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. And where’s Tony?”

“His bedroom.”

He nodded and yanked a tee over his head before heading out of his bedroom. Tony literally only stayed in his room if he was asleep. Most other times he elected to be out among everyone else, or be working in the lab. Peter took the trip down to the third floor and made a beeline directly to the kitchen.

“Is there any food left?” he asked, knowing full well what he looked like, with the wild hair and eyes.

Wanda, Steve and Bucky were still sitting around the kitchen counter, sipping coffee while their plates were empty in front of them. The residual smell of fresh pancakes and maple syrup made it to his nose and he _really, really hoped that he could con Bucky into making more for him_.

Bucky snorted, waving him towards the microwave. “Saved you a plate.”

He pumped a fist in the air and scooted across the tile to get his plate. He reheated his plate before slathering butter and syrup on his pancakes and digging in. He took the last open stool between Steve and Wanda and practically inhaled his food.

“Easy there, tiger,” Steve said, looking at him warily, like he might accidentally choke or something.

“I’m good,” he assured him between bites.

Wanda laughed lightly at him before going back to her conversation with Bucky. Steve hopped back in at random intervals.

Peter hummed a bit to himself and waved a hand to bring up Friday’s interface. He scrolled through the rest of his notifications before coming to a missed message from Tony. _Weird_. Friday should have marked it a priority if it came from Tony.

He opened the message and looked it over with pursed, thoughtful lips.

 

> _[thumbs up emoji] Let me know if I need to go through and change your name, or if you need pronoun changes or whatever else._

“ _Oof_ ,” he sighed, looking the message over. “Okay, uhm, Friday, can you tell me when Tony’s up and around? Tell him I’ll answer his questions when I see him.”

“Will do.”

Bucky glanced to him. “Getting interrogated?” he asked in what sounded _suspiciously_ like a joke.

Peter gave him a half smile. “Kind of. It’s just some updates and stuff.”

The elevator doors slid open, then, and Peter thought that Tony had the best timing in the world. He had a towel hung around his neck like he had just gotten done showering, and there was steaming coffee in his Hulk-themed mug.

“Good morning,” he wished them. “I’m stealing milk because _someone_ used all of the one in the fridge upstairs.”

Peter made a noise and straightened up in his seat. “Harley did it,” he snitched, “we made smoothies before bed.”

“Sounds like it’s both of your faults, then,” Tony told him, eyes widening jokingly for a second before he turned back to the fridge. He took out the carton and splashed some in his coffee. “I might make both of you go on a grocery run.”

“You say that like it’s a punishment,” Peter said incredulously. “Like, yeah, let me go on a trip with one of my best friends, _oh no, what am I gonna dooo_.”

Tony snorted at him. “You snark too much for-,” He glanced at the clock on the stove, “ten in the morning.”

“I wonder where he learned it,” Steve put in.

Tony gave him a withering glance. “I dunno,” he said. “Probably that girlfriend of his. She can out snark the rest of you without breaking a sweat.”

Peter laughed. “Not you?”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Never me.” He looked over the rest of the room’s inhabitants and made a face. “If you all will excuse us, I’ve gotta grill the kid for a while.”

“Oh God,” Wanda said gravely, putting a hand on Peter’s arm. She looked to Tony as she stood up. “Have mercy on him.” She kissed the crown on Peter’s head and whispered “Good luck,” into his hair before moving off. Tony snorted and waved her off. Steve and Bucky followed obediently after her.

Peter laughed, watching them leave. He looked back to Tony expectantly. His nerves had quelled, and he set his mind to try and take the conversation with ease.

“So.” Tony took an orange from the fruit bowl and sat down on the stool beside him. “Got Pronouns?” he joked, Peter laughed.

“Yeah, it’s he/him today.”

“Today,” Tony repeated, “so they do change.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I’m usually pretty comfortable with masculine pronouns, but other days I want nothing to do with it, you know?” Tony nodded thoughtfully. “And I don’t need a full name change, but some days I do go by Penny.”

“Okay,” he said, “what is it today?”

“Pretty Peter-y today.” He got up to make himself a drink. He took a mug down from the cabinet and poured himself some coffee. He modified it the way he liked it and sipped it carefully as he went to sit back down.

“And yesterday? Was that a Penny day?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded and set his cup down. “Not all Penny days are full glam, though, don’t worry.”

Tony snorted. “You can come in everyday like that, I promise that no one’s gonna give a shit.”

“Yeah, that was pretty cool yesterday, I didn’t expect, uh, _that_.”

“That?” Tony quoted.

“The, like, unquestioning support. That was pretty great. I think I needed that.” He scratched at the side of his mouth and shrugged. “It was nice. I was really nervous about coming out to you guys, but I think… I’m good now. I mean, everyone knows that I’m at least some form of queer, I’m just adding a few layers. I just, you know, hope that it won’t change how some people think about me.”

Tony patted his shoulder. “I can’t honestly 100% say that _everyone_ will get it, or even accept it,” he said, “but I know that most will be right be right behind you. _I’m_ right there behind you, kid. And if anyone has anything to say, they’re going to be slapped with a Civil War: Reprise.”

Peter smiled. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony ruffled a hand in his hair. “No problem, kiddo. Does anybody else know yet?”

Peter nodded. “Harley.”

“He took it well?”

“ _Oh yeah_ ,” he enthused. “It was great. I kind of just slipped it in, but he rolled with it, and it was great.”

“I’m glad.” He clapped a hand over Peter’s shoulder and squeezed. “Good talk. Do you need anything else?”

Peter thought for a second before shaking his head. “I think I’m good, honestly.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go return Pepper’s sixteen voicemails before she comes down here to throttle me.”

“Good luck,” Peter called after him as he traveled back to the elevator.

The _Comings Out_ were kinda slow after that. Peter told Wanda later that week and she just straight up _died_. She dragged him to her room and sat him down on the bed before blurting out “Me too!”

Peter’s mind: Blown. He had no idea she was trans. They stayed in her room most of the day, just being with each other, talking and painting each other’s nails. Peter loved it. He came out of that day just so _excited_. There was something undoubtedly exciting about learning that your support system is growing, that you can bond with the people you know on a much deeper level.

Vision was next. He took it in his weird ex-AI way and used the correct pronouns for Peter right away; it was pretty sick.

He didn’t tell anyone else for a while after that, because he didn’t spend as much time on the compound, what with exams rounding the corner.

He took two weeks off for the remainder of the semester like he always did until he finished his exams, and packed for the residual month-long stay at the compound for the summer.

He was a little antsy about leaving Aunt May on her own for so long, but they did this last summer, too, and everything went _fine_. And he knew that Aunt May and Ned and Michelle could visit anytime they wanted to during his stay with the Avengers.

So, with his bags packed up and shoved into the trunk of Happy’s car, Peter hugged Aunt May tight and let her threaten him into calling her at least three times a week, and she was going to visit him this weekend so _behave, you hear me, young man?_

She shut his door tight and blew him a kiss through the window. He smiled and clicked his seatbelt into place before May stepped back onto the curb and let Happy drive away.

As soon as he got into his room, he showered and changed his clothes into something more comfortable. He unpacked his bags and dumped his laptop and phone on his bedspread. He texted Ned and Michelle that he made it alive before heading out down to the third floor, little paper pamphlets in hand.

Harley was at home for another couple of days before he would flying back for the rest of the summer, and Peter stuffed down his disappointment for now. He was on a _mission_. He knocked with purpose on Bucky’s bedroom door (which he found out recently, was also Steve’s room, _hah_.) and stood straight, shoulders square and chin held up.

Bucky opened the door and looked at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. “Jesus, kid, you look like a Jehovah’s Witness.”

Peter looked down at himself, in his pullover hoodie (Spiderman themed. Bruce thought it was hilarious when he got it for Peter) and jogging pants, and then gave Bucky an “ _Are you sure?”_ look.

“It’s the ‘posture and source material’ stuff,” Bucky supplied. “What’s that? Couldn’t find anyone to sign the permission slip to a field trip?”

Peter snorted. “For one, I’m out of school right now,” he said easily, “for two, _no, Bucky. Just no_. These are info pamphlets.”

“I’m not religious,” Bucky shrugged.

“I’m not here about religion,” Peter insisted. “Look, do you know what genderqueer means?”

Bucky leveled him with an unimpressed look. “It’s not like I live under a rock,” he said. “I’ve heard the term.”

“Okay, but do you know what it _means_?” Peter asked. Bucky didn’t say anything after that. “Okay, so can I come in?” Bucky looked him over before letting him in. Peter looked around the room, in all its neutral tones and pale blues. He settled on the cushioned bench at the end of the bed and sighed. He patted the other side of the bench, and Bucky came over to sit down.

“Is this just an educational visit, or are you leading up to something?” he asked bluntly.

“Leading up to something,” Peter answered immediately. “And I’m not really sure how this is going to go, so…” He trailed off. “We’re going to look at pamphlets I made last night while trying to figure out how to do this.” He flipped a pamphlet open and held it out towards Bucky. “Genderqueer means ‘deviating from the gender assigned at birth.’ I was assigned male at birth. That’s cool, or whatever, but I don’t really like it sometimes.”

“So, your makeup?” he asked, filling in the blank.

Peter nodded. “Though you don’t have to be genderqueer to like makeup.” He shrugged a shoulder. “That’s kind of just to express myself, you know? It’s not something for every day, but it’s something I really enjoy.”

Bucky nodded, scanning through his paper. “There’s a lot of terms here.”

Peter winced. “I might have gone overboard,” he agreed. “But, uh, really the one I want to talk about it this one.” He tapped his finger over _‘genderfluid’_. “That’s what I am.”

“Okay.”

It was more of a prompt to go on than a signal that he understood, so Peter went on. “It means that I don’t really identify as a man or a woman solidly. It’s more like, I’m both? Or neither, it depends on the day.” Bucky frowned down at his pamphlet, but didn’t say anything, so Peter just… spoke. “It just depends on what I feel like. Some days I do feel more, you know, manly and stuff, so I go by the name Peter and use masculine pronouns and stuff, but then I turn around, and I feel more feminine and I want to be called something else and have everyone use girl pronouns for me.” He rubbed at his knees with the palms of his hands, wishing that his skin hadn’t become so _clammy_. “A-And then some days, I feel like I’m stuck in the middle, and I don’t want he, _or_ she, and I want to jump out of a window, or something. On those days I use they and them pronouns. Which is kind of cool, because I can wear makeup on those days, but I’ll still wear masculine clothing, or I’ll do my hair and people will get really confused and it’s like I’m some kind of super-secret gender spy, it’s pretty cool.”

“You’d be good at going undercover,” Bucky noted, now reading the back of the pamphlet.

“Right?” Peter cried. “I’d be so good at it, you wouldn’t know what came for you.” He rocked back a bit, watching Bucky as he read. His hair dipped some over his face, and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Have you ever braided your hair? I feel like you’d be a French braid type of person.”

Bucky looked at him. “I just tie it up,” he said, lifting his right wrist to show Peter the rubber band there.

Peter nodded and rocked for another second. “So, could _I_ braid your hair?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Bucky’s eyes flitted over his face and down to Peter's hands before nodding slowly.

Peter’s eyes lit up. “Cool!” He bounced up from the bench and looked Bucky over. “Do you have a comb?”

“On the dresser.”

Peter grabbed it and bounced onto the bed this time and settled behind Bucky so he could comb through his hair and begin to part the strands.

While Peter braided his hair, Bucky read through each pamphlet, sometimes asking Peter to explain things, or clarifying something to make sure he got it. Peter felt his chest swell in pride while Bucky started to understand.

“And if you have any more questions you can just, like, ask me.” He made a grabby hand over his shoulder. “Need your hairband.” Bucky offered his wrist and Peter slipped the band off of it so he could tie the braid off. “Sick,” he said, smoothing over the braid and tucking a small strand into a knot. “Cool. Thanks for letting me talk to you about my gender and braid your hair!” He bounced off the bed and grinned at Bucky, who smiled back.

“Thanks for braiding my hair,” he said back.

“Anytime.” Peter rocked back on his heels before blurting, “Literally. Any time. Your hair is great.” And with that, he made his exit, heading to the elevator doors to take him up to the fifth floor.

* * *

 

     Over the next few days, he came out to Nat. In the middle of training, funnily enough. Also, _funnily enough_ , it was on accident. She had him cleaning a handgun and putting it back together. It seemed like he did _something_ wrong. Fed up, he sighed and flung his head back. “Not to be dramatic, or anything, but this is transphobia at its finest.” It was a joke, but she seemed concerned so he waved a hand. “I’m trans, and this is inconveniencing me.” And then he realized what he had said and clapped a hand over his mouth.

Obviously, he had to explain it to her, then.

After Nat, it was Bruce.

He wheeled his chair back until he slowed down next to the other man’s desk. “Dude,” he said. Bruce only hummed, glancing up to him. Peter figured that he probably could have told Bruce beforehand, since he was a very loudly open transman, but then again, maybe Peter was subconsciously trying to save the best people for later. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m trans – well, genderfluid, anyhow.”

Bruce looked to him, eyes brightening. “Oh, wow,” he said. “Uh… welcome to the family.”

“Family?” Peter asked, blinking. He thought of standing up like some stupid 90’s kid show and being all like _Silly Brucie! I’m already an Avenger_! Complete with cheesy smiles and everything, but he kept quiet and let Bruce say his thing. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Yeah the, er, Transvengers, I guess.” Bruce shrugged a shoulder. “Working title.”

“Dude,” Peter whispered, “that is so _dope_ , what the fuck, that’s amazing.”

“Isn’t it?” Bruce grinned. He took a drink from his tumbler and nodded. “So, do you have special pronouns?”

* * *

 

     Sam was next, but not, like, _officially_ or anything. They passed each other in the kitchen and he stopped, calling out to Peter as she rooted through the cabinet for a box of Poptarts.

“What’s up?” she asked, eyebrows up. She grabbed the box and held it to her chest.

Sam just looked her over where she was precariously squatted on the edge of the countertop. “Be careful, you’re gonna fall the hell over.”

Peter just rolled her eyes at him and leaned back, planting her feet to the counter so that she wouldn’t fall off as she leaned practically level with the cabinet. “I think I’m good,” she sassed, smirking at him.

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Okay, smartass.”

Peter just laughed and took one of the Poptarts out of the box and held it between her teeth while she leaned back up and stuffed the box back in the cabinet.

“What’s your pronouns today, by the way?”

Peter whirled around, nearly falling off the cabinet this time before she caught herself and flipped off the edge of the counter instead. She was sure that she bit clean through her Poptart, _dammit._

Putting that aside, she just looked at Sam, eyes wide. Sam shrugged. “I hope it wasn’t a secret,” he said, “but I heard about it.”

Peter felt a relieved breath fill up her lungs. “I’m actually kind of glad,” she said, “coming out to everyone one at a time is ridiculously tedious.”

Sam nodded sympathetically. “I can only imagine.”

“Yeah. It’s taking so long,” she whined. She rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s she/her today.”

“Okay.” He turned to leave the kitchen before calling over his shoulder, “Those are Steve’s Poptarts, by the way.”

Peter looked at the foil-wrapped package and cursed, sullenly washing the foil off before putting the treat back in the cabinet.

* * *

 

     Hawkeye happened a week later. They were sat down at the kitchen bar, and Peter thought _this is it! The time is right!_ And she just. Blurted it out. Hawkeye glanced at her right afterwards, so Peter figured that Clint had heard her. But he hadn’t said anything, so…

Obviously, Peter got all ramble-y and stuff, and she talked for, like, seven minutes straight before Clint looked at her again and startled.

He fiddled with his hearing aid before asking _“Oh shit, were you talking to me?”_

“Yes?” Peter cringed, folding in on herself.

“I had my hearing aids off,” he explained needlessly. “What were you talking about?”

Peter hesitated, debating whether or not she should fake out, but she decided to just go for it when Steve walked into the room. He smiled and nodded at the two of them before heading to the fridge.

“ _Anndddd, fuck it_!” she sighed. “Cap, Clint, can I tell you both something?”

And so she explained it to them. Clint high-fived her, welcoming her to the Transvengers, while Steve smiled fondly at them. She thought that she was going to have to explain it all to Steve, but apparently he had already had that sit-down talk when Clint came out.

_Sick._

So that went extremely well and all was just – _really good_.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr!!](http://peanutbutterandbitter.tumblr.com)
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> i think this will be a series bc my honest main goal of this fic was to have Thor and Loki and Petey interaction and I Didnt Get it so. just gotta write more. l. m. a. o.


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